A Possible Solution to the Flatness Problem

However, I am also sure that many physicists agree with me that the flatness of the universe is a peculiar situation which at some point will admit a physical explanation.
— Guth

Sentences so far delivered include massive amounts of debugging code. So finds Judge Learned Hand of the opulate quarter, of that most moist hemisphere. Native mode is no excuse when the autumn bomb’s kabloom.

Catch little white girl. The eggmann. He’s fit to be gill tide as charged, slurd as he is in his blue swayed shoes. King Cong versus Humpty Doodle. A professor of the anti-inflationary universe, residing at Two Searocket Lane. Them’s the vax, so kelp me cod. Memory is cheap for mouse bound software.

Someone’s in the kitchen. She’s a cover girl for all the cosmos. A sand dollar in her empty pocket, with a fancy pheromone based speech system, slingoing seawards, wending. When her yons in vogue I turn to a shadow. Boost phase interrupt.

Me tarsand, you Jane.

It’s simples sigh man, the layrd of his mannor, prepossessive in habititude, formerly chief dental mechanic for Sister Dee’s colletage of barbers and surgeons. In a fine figurehead of speech. Until Tass reutered him. Served a dollop of dittany in his monkshood and creaturly habits. Too bald for him when he lost his absolute pitch in the bonedry waters. He stood to make a prophet if worts came home to roots.

Having a lubbery time on land. Nexus, the see. No swimming aloud in your second skin.

Ever since he was promoted to a quantum mechanic, he’s made thinly failed illusions to the medulla oblongata. Drivel talk.

Snakes and lassies. Fleet of foot in her argoile gumboats, she escapes through the change house. Since he’s become a cook she hardly ever eats any more. And whenever she picks up on whatever’s coming down, he’s sure to fufufumble a couple couplecouple times. Far viande the vent herizon.

Dbbl dribbled. Critical phrase transition. As pretty a set of jugglers as ever a pitcher poured. Dbl boiled.

Sparks flew as she slipped off her pants. Lapping waves foam at her mouth. Suckle me choppers at the spawnish bunkers. Frame grabber. She was made in the stars.

He goes down to the sea as smolt. A mutant bulge in his genes. Egg static. Milt leading the spined. One fished in irons, the other in a creel. If the right whale don’t a krill ya, the baleen will.

Clasp when clapped at. His heart rattles in its cage. Control yourself. Won’t catch me in a hatchery, fisher of kings. Crab, pinch me to sea. If I’m a wake.

Or if les harticots sont pas sales. Accidents will happen in the best regurgitated families. Come winter, it’ll be ice jam and sonora tea from the Trans Sisters, BMEWS’d as they are with dead reckoning.

Waiter, there’s an atomic demolition munition in my soup.

You’ll be interested to know that the Italian navigator has just landed in the new world. Were the natives friendly? Yoo bet yo bottom dollar.

Had history unfolded differently we might have remained neutral, but how ionic that we still felt a vanderwall’s attraction. Hawking radiation from her black hole. Apple pion the scion. Renormalize. Promiscuous burning at all elevations.

Pour me some swamp cooler in my depression glass, I’ve just failed my smog check. Soviet nam. Thimble riggers. Barney Google, with the googoogoogly eyes. Had a wife three times his size. Annie Oakley was her name. Ask her again, she’ll tell you the same.

Waiter, may we have some cratons for this supercanoe?

This is a test. If this had been a real emergency, the tone would have been followed by official information. Ou sont les neiges downtown? Jiminy cricket. Killed in a bar when he was only three.

Reducted my wate state to two stone and one. Without sins. Jesust a throw. Attaches to any doorknob.

Bridge to nosecone! Thar she blows. Die frauder, de sham, indus Holy Glasnost. Standing in doorways, stunned. The nubliest oblige. Oblate. This has been a test. Of the dictionary of phase and fraible.

Jug jug juggling. We’re cooped up in the bughouse with ladybugs and daddy longlegs.

This bar is a dive, he says. I should know, I come here all the —duck, cosmic rays — all the time.

Seeing you eat that chocolat bar, she says — boys will be boys — reminds me of something. I’ve got this big ashtray with teeth all around the edge.

Look at that guy, he says. I hope he doesn’t come in here. Don’t look at him, she says. What a hat.